The Art of Annoying Arthur
by The-Lady-Aphrodite
Summary: If only Morgana was beautiful! At least Arthur could then look at her whilst she was being annoying. But there was still that irredeemable fact. She was the most annoying person Arthur had ever met. ArMor AU
1. Chapter 1

**This isn't a sequel to The Fall of the Leaf; this is a separate piece that I wanted to write just for a change! It's lighter and there's a lot less angst! I got the general idea for the plot from the book Flipped by Wendelin van Draanen. I don't own the book or the characters from Merlin. **

Morgana was annoying. She would wait outside his chambers with the wooden swords, a wild daisy tucked in her unruly hair and she would knock loudly, announcing her presence in a bright voice. She would wait for him for hours sometimes, if he pretended he wasn't there. She knew he would have to enter or exit that door sometime.

Arthur could hear her. She would sit on the cold stone floor and sing to herself or hum or just talk. He would listen sometimes with a frown of incredulity on his young face, wondering how she could possibly talk to herself for so long without getting tired of hearing her own voice. However it only got worse.

Cries of, "Oh, Arthur, there you are!" haunted his every move in front of the safety of his wooden chamber door. As soon as he emerged she would scramble to her feet, hair flying everywhere, a blush of happiness on her cheeks and small hands grasping the wooden swords.

"Morgana, I think my father wants to see me –,"

"Oh no, it's all right, he told me I could play with you."

"Oh. Right." And Arthur, sighing heavily would take one of the swords and follow the bouncing girl out to the practice ground. She was so...eager. She was so bright and enthusiastic. It was unnatural. He resented it. Who got up at five in the morning so they could choose the best spot for a picnic later that day? Who followed around their guardian's son all day because she thought it was 'fun'? Who asked him all about his day at the dinner table as if she hadn't been there for all of it? It had been like that for six years, ever since Morgana had arrived in Camelot.

Arthur's father wasn't any help. "Don't be ridiculous Arthur," he frowned when Arthur tried to complain. "Can't you see how happy Morgana is now? Do your duty and stop moaning like a child."

Duty. It was apparently his duty to humour an annoying, stalker cousin/sister/something because it made her happy? Arthur scowled and bashed the wooden sword against Morgana's wrist harder than necessary and she fell to the ground with a thump. For a moment she sat there, dazed but then she jumped up and grinned, "Do you think you could show me how to do that Arthur?" Great.

It made it even worse that she put off all the other girls. They thought she was his and that he wouldn't be interested in anyone else, which was stupid and annoying and typically_ Morgana._ She always ruined everything.

All Arthur wanted was firstly, for Morgana to leave him alone. And secondly for Elaine to notice him. He thought he was in love. Elaine was fifteen, a year older than Arthur but he was pleased to notice he'd grown two inches in the past three months, a clear inch over Elaine. She was true beauty with curly blonde hair cascading down her back like, like..._like gold_ and her eyes were wide and blue and she always seemed to smile at Arthur when he walked past her but she had never spoken to him and he was certain it was because of Morgana.

If only Morgana looked like Elaine! She'd still be annoying but at least he could look at her whilst she was being annoying. No, that wasn't fair, he supposed. Morgana wasn't exactly, _ugly_, she had long hair too except it was black like sticky ink and her eyes were strange...too grey or too green, too pale anyway. She was tall too but not as tall as Elaine or Arthur. And there was still that irredeemable fact. She was the most annoying person Arthur had ever met.

* * *

><p>"Arthur!" He increased his pace. Maybe if he walked fast enough she'd give up. "Arthur, wait for me!" What was he thinking? This was Morgana, she never gave up. "Arthur please!" People were starting to look at him. He decided to stop.<p>

"Morgana, I'm sort of busy. Father asked me to go down to the city to look at the blacksmith's. He wants some new swords; it's all very boring, you wouldn't want to come."

"Don't be silly Arthur; of course I want to come! I wanted to tell you about my new horse that Uther bought for me last week. He's beautiful; I can't understand why you don't want to see him. Will you come with me one day to see him? He loves sugar and carrots. I put him in the stall next to your horse so they can be friends!" She was smiling so brightly he could do nothing except attempt a friendly smile in return. It must have worked because she laughed a little and tried to link his arm. No. He was the Prince of Camelot and no one, not even Morgana, would link his arm.

He pulled his arm away swiftly. Morgana gazed hurt, at him. "Sorry Morgana, my arm...aches."

At once her smile was back in place. "That's all right Arthur; I can massage it later if you want? I'm really good. Gaius says..." And off she was again. After six years Arthur had perfected the look of seeming to be listening to her useless chatter whilst really considering the best way to get rid of her.

No one understood. Leon and Percival laughed at him. "I wish I had my own personal stalker!" His father refused to listen. "Arthur, please, I have more pressing concerns." Morgana couldn't take a hint. "Arthur, if you feel tired, you can lie down in my room, it's just round the corner!" He couldn't be brutal to Morgana; the whole court was aware of her father's violent death in war when she was eight. He couldn't be tactful because Morgana just did not understand tact. He couldn't – Elaine walked past with a friend, laughing prettily. Arthur stopped walking, oblivious to Morgana's concerned questions, staring at the object of his adoration walk past. Was Elaine not perfect?

"Actually I've always thought she was rather empty-headed and dull," replied Morgana. Arthur realised with a flush of annoyance and embarrassment that he'd spoken aloud. "And her nose is too long and her eyes are too close together. It makes her look sneaky, I think."

Arthur bit back a retort along the lines of, "Shut up Morgana, you're just jealous." He reminded himself it wasn't Morgana's fault she was plain and awkward whilst Elaine was...a goddess. It was so typically Morgana that she would dislike someone as sweet and good as Elaine. Just to make things uncomfortable.

Then with a flash of inspiration like a bolt of lightning from the sky Arthur was hit with the perfect way of getting rid of Morgana. If he could only persuade Elaine to reciprocate his love...

**Please review! :) **


	2. Chapter 2

"I have told the kitchen to expect the entire court," Uther announced at dinner. "Next week's banquet shall be the finest in the whole of Camelot."

Morgana nodded eagerly. Arthur nodded slowly, his eyes distracted by the huge roast pig the servants were bringing to the table. His eyes widened voluntarily and he swallowed. He had never been able to eat pig.

"I'm sure the two of you will have an excellent time together, won't you Arthur?" Arthur's eyes snapped up to meet his father's.

"I'm sorry Father, what did you say?"

"I was just telling Morgana that you would be accompanying her to the banquet. The poor girl didn't want to go by herself."

"What?" Even to his own ears he sounded rude. "I'm sorry, I mean why? No one else will have a minder!"

Morgana's face dropped at Arthur's obvious annoyance. He growled in his throat and faced his father pleadingly. "Father, please, don't make us go with each other! I'll get laughed out of the castle!"

"Arthur!" Uther snapped. "You will do as I say," He turned to Morgana and patted her hand. "It's all right, my dear, don't be upset. We both know how Arthur can be."

Morgana sniffed. "Yes, you're right, my lord. He can be so silly about these things can't he?"

Arthur couldn't believe his ears. A part of him was bursting to remind his father that he was actually still there and could hear them discussing him as though he wasn't. Instead he settled for clearing his throat loudly. It was time for the master plan. "I apologise with all sincerity, dearest Morgana," Morgana smiled widely. "But I will be unable to take you to the banquet," her smile became a frown. "Because I have already said I would take someone else."

Uther's brows knitted together. "Arthur, I don't think –,"

"– Seeing as I am the Prince of Camelot and should act with all due honour and nobility, I do think Father that it would not be wise for me to break my promise to the lady in question as it might show a certain indelicacy, don't you agree?"

Arthur grinned. There was no way his father could make him take Morgana now and she knew it. She was sitting there scowling away like Arthur belonged to her. Ha.

"I suppose so." Uther pursed his lips and smiled apologetically at his ward. "I am sorry child, but Arthur is right. It would not be honourable for the prince to break his word once it is given. You do understand, don't you Morgana?"

Her scowl grew bigger but she replied calmly. "Of course, my lord. I forgive you Arthur," she suddenly beamed angelically. "But just because you are accompanying someone else, doesn't mean we can't dance does it?"

His father was watching him expectantly. For the love of God. And he'd better not say _that_ aloud. "Yes, yes, all right Morgana."

"Good, now that's all settled, let's eat, children."

Arthur swallowed again. Oh yes, the other problem. The pig.

* * *

><p>"Arthur, who exactly are you going with to the banquet?" He knew he's regret letting Morgana into his chamber. She'd knocked and entered so quickly he hadn't had time to lock the door and he really didn't have the heart to push her out <em>again.<em> Especially after last time she'd fallen on the stone floor and broken her wrist.

"Just...a girl." The truth was Arthur hadn't asked anyone. He desperately wanted to ask Elaine and begin the first step of his plan to get rid of Morgana forever. But she'd been in the countryside at her family house for the past couple of weeks and would only return the day before the banquet. Would she even want to go so soon after the long journey back to Camelot? Would someone else had written and asked her before then? Would her journey be delayed and she'd stay in the country? Arthur shook his head heavily. It was giving him a headache.

"Yes, but what girl exactly? Tell me her name, what she looks like and how much you like her." And Morgana wasn't helping.

"Morgana, don't you think asking me that is a bit strange?" He stood up from his desk and went to the window overlooking the courtyard. It was empty at dusk.

"No, why?"

"Because you're my sister and you're asking me how much I like another girl?" If he was honest Arthur never thought of Morgana as his sister. For one thing, she was absolutely nothing whatsoever like him. For another, weren't boys supposed to want to protect their sisters? If Morgana was killed he supposed he'd feel a bit guilty seeing as he spent either moaning about her in his head or to his friends but he thought he'd get over it.

"I'm not your sister silly!" Morgana moved closer to him. "But if it makes you feel better, you can just tell me her name! I'll probably know her anyway so then we can discuss her and whether she's a good catch or not. I know quite a lot about getting married actually."

Arthur frowned in disbelief. "Morgana, that really is strange."

She shrugged. "I'm alone a lot of the time so I just read and talk to Geoffrey. He knows a lot about everything." She was doing it again! Trying to make him feel guilty!

"I see."

"So, tell me then! Tell me, or I'll guess!"

"You couldn't."

"Try me!" She really would as well. It was better just to make something up.

"I'm going with...Elaine." Oh no, why did he say that! Of all the stupid, thoughtless things to say.

Morgana's mouth fell open. "You are not!"

"Am too." There was nothing for it now, he thought. He'd just have to go through with it.

"Are not!"

He could carry on this for hours. They had once actually. Still, they weren't six anymore. "Look, sorry I can't take you. Try not to be too jealous. Now, I have to do some stuff so I can't talk to you anymore." He took her arm and firmly but gently pushed her out of his room before slamming the door and locking it hurriedly. She banged on the door loudly.

"I bet you a million emerald necklaces you won't go with Elaine!"

Arthur sighed and turned back to the window.

* * *

><p>Elaine's father was only a minor nobleman so there was no big fanfare when he and his lovely daughter returned from his country estate. Arthur did not even know that Elaine had returned a day earlier than he thought until he heard a maid grumbling about preparing the jellied eels for the young lady. His heart leapt into his mouth. Only Elaine had jellied eels. She took them to the room she shared with her friend Gwyneth.<p>

He rushed back to his chamber, heart thudding in his chest and face shiny with running. His mirror reflection disappointed him so after a few minutes he looked again. His face was no longer shiny or red and when he ran his fingers through his hair it obeyed him at once. He wondered if he looked older than he was. He was sure he did. He was tall for fourteen and his face seemed to have lost the plump, childishness that had haunted his early adolescence. He was ready.

Yesterday Morgana had sneaked into his room and placed a bunch of wild tulips on his pillow. He had tossed them on to his desk but then he plucked one out thoughtfully and smelled it. It still smelled sweet and it looked pretty. He was sure Elaine would like it.

She opened her chamber door quickly, like she was expecting somebody else. Her face momentarily darkened but when it swiftly changed to joy, Arthur beamed. She was pleased to see him, he knew it.

"Prince Arthur, what are you doing here?" Her voice sounded like angels singing.

"I – I...I brought you this." His voice broke on the last word and he cursed his fair skin when it blushed red.

"Oh, thank you!" Elaine took the single tulip and smiled sweetly at Arthur. "This is so lovely of you, Your Highness. May I ask why you brought me this?"

This was it. He took a deep breath and raised his eyes to Elaine's beautiful pale blue ones. "I was wondering," he began nervously. His knees shook. "I was hoping actually, that maybe...well, perhaps you would consider – I mean, only if you wanted to. But if you did, maybe...?"

"Would you like me to attend the king's banquet with you, Prince Arthur?" Her eyes twinkled.

"Yes please, my lady." Arthur sighed in relief.

"I would be honoured to," she paused. "And I think we should perhaps address each other by our names. Call me Elaine, please."

Arthur wondered if it was possible to die of pure joy racing through your veins. "And you must call me Arthur." He kept his eyes on the ground but she chuckled.

"Thank you then, Arthur."

* * *

><p>"I heard that Lady Elaine was hoping that Sir Gideon would ask her," grinned Morgana gleefully. "So you can't possibly be going with her."<p>

"Well, I am so I don't care what you say," Arthur smoothed his shirt down. It was a couple of hours before the banquet and despite his better judgement he wanted a woman's opinion on his attire. Morgana was the closest thing he had to a woman so he had decided to ask her. He was swiftly beginning to regret it. "You'll see, anyway. What do you think of this shirt?"

"Well, it's red."

"Yes, so?"

"So you look fine." She began playing with her hair. Arthur sighed.

"Morgana, please give me some guidance," he eyed her own dress. To his surprise she looked rather nice. It was red too, a dark wine colour with gold bands running around the hem. Her hair was loose as usual but a simple gold band ran around her head. "You're a girl, aren't you?"

She ignored his question. "I think Elaine accepted you because she thought Sir Gideon wasn't going to ask her and she didn't want to go alone."

"Please just answer the question!" Arthur pulled at a bit of loose material. "I don't suppose you know what colour dress Elaine's wearing, do you?"

"She's wearing a lilac dress. Everyone's talking about it. Personally I don't like the colour lilac and I don't think you should either but apparently it's going to be dazzling. I doubt that very much. I doubt Lady Elaine can even spell the word dazzling."

Arthur groaned. "But I don't have a lilac shirt! Girls like that sort of thing, don't they? Wearing the same colour as their companion?"

Morgana was silent. "Well, do they Morgana?" She shrugged infuriatingly. Arthur gritted his teeth and pulled off the red shirt. Morgana blushed and turned her eyes away but Arthur didn't notice. He rifled through his wardrobe and pulled out a white shirt with a gold edge. It would do.

He addressed Morgana as he pulled on the new shirt. "You know I do feel bad that you're going alone."

She raised her eyebrows. "Honestly Arthur, you are silly. I'm not going alone. I'm the king's ward. Everyone wants to take me," she paused and he watched her eyes focus on the floor. "Everyone except you, that is. And I still don't know why. I think about it all the time."

"Right," Arthur hesitated. "So who are you going with?"

She looked up with a smile, showing very white teeth. "Sir Gideon."

Arthur spluttered. "But he's three years older than you! That's completely inappropriate! I suppose Father doesn't know? If he did, he'd maim you! And Sir Gideon, who should, quite frankly, know better! And how did you get him to ask you? You just said he was going to ask Elaine!"

"No, I said she wanted him to ask her. He asked me a few days ago, after I came back from a ride. He was in my guard and he just randomly asked me then. I was surprised. I didn't know he liked me."

"He doesn't like you, you know," Arthur snapped. "He's just asking you because he wants to get to the king through you."

Morgana seemed upset and immediately Arthur regretted his words. It was probably true but he also probably shouldn't have said it to Morgana's face. "I know it's true," she replied quietly. "But I'm normal Arthur. I don't want to be the only girl without someone taking me." She slid off his bed and walked to the door. Arthur watched her go silently and felt the worst feelings he'd ever felt. He felt guilty.

**:) Thanks for reading!**


	3. Chapter 3

**Here's Chapter Three...**

Elaine looked radiant. Her curly blonde hair was pulled up into an elegant coil at the top of her head. Her skin was glowing and her eyes were shining. She was wearing lilac, just like Morgana had said, with a dark purple sash clinging softly to the fabric. She looked Arthur up and down. "You look charming Arthur," she said hastily. "Simply lovely."

Arthur blushed. "You look beautiful, my lady."

She poked him playfully. "I thought we had dispensed with the formalities?" Arthur nodded and she took his arm satisfied. They walked slowly through the corridors, bustling with servants. "Are we late?"

"Not at all." Arthur replied politely but she had spent so long deciding on her perfume the truth was that all the other guests would already be inside the banqueting hall.

As the doors creaked open to reveal an expectant throng of people Arthur glowed with pleasure and pride. He, the Prince of Camelot was entering with the most beautiful, sought after girl on his arm. He looked for Morgana. She was watching him with no expression on her face. Tall, handsome Gideon stood beside her, also watching. Arthur raised his eyebrows at Morgana and she looked away but not before he glimpsed a hint of sadness in her large eyes. Perhaps now she would understand, he thought, trying to feel glad. He only felt bad that he had so blatantly upset Morgana. He hadn't meant to. Was it so wrong to want to escape her after a lifetime of being the object of her obsession? Judging by the look on Morgana's face, perhaps it was.

Elaine led him over to the king. Uther was grave in black but he smiled approvingly at Elaine's demure curtsey. "Good evening, sire," she murmured. "Thank you for your gracious invitation."

"Good evening, my lady," the king replied solemnly. "It was my pleasure and I hope you enjoy yourself," he looked at Arthur sternly. "I also hope, Arthur, that you do not forget your obligation to Morgana."

Arthur started. "What obligation, sire?"

"I would like to see you dance at least once with her and spend at least fifteen minutes in her company as well."

Arthur opened his mouth to complain but Uther had moved away to greet somebody else. Elaine made a face. "Do we really have to talk to Lady Morgana, do you think? Would your father notice if we didn't?"

Arthur pursed his lips and glanced at Morgana. She was laughing at something the oaf Gideon had said. "Yes, he'd notice," he answered grimly. "I don't think we have much of a choice."

Elaine scowled. Arthur stared. For a second her beauty had disappeared but then the scowl quickly vanished and she returned to him. "What if we just avoided her? Couldn't you tell your father there was no chance to speak to her?"

Arthur hesitated in confusion. He hadn't met anyone apart from himself who seemed to dislike the idea of spending time with Morgana so much. He wasn't quite sure whether to be pleased or offended. "Why do you dislike her?" He asked, curiously.

Elaine shrugged gracefully. "She's just a silly little girl. I don't like or dislike her. Do you?"

Arthur began to speak of his hate for Morgana when he saw her accept Gideon's offer to dance. Her lips were pressed together. It meant she was nervous and he was overwhelmed with compassion. He knew Morgana only liked to dance with him. "I don't know," he replied at last. "She's dreadfully annoying sometimes but she's not a bad person." He almost laughed at himself. Was he saying something good about _Morgana_?

Elaine giggled. "Well, would you get me a drink? Thanks." She immediately walked away to where a group of her friends stood. Arthur stood staring after her. She smiled briefly back at him before engaging herself in the conversation. He stayed gaping for a few more seconds before his brain caught up and he hurried to fetch a goblet of wine.

"Are you enjoying yourself Arthur?" Morgana's voice came from behind his ear. He straightened up, holding Elaine's goblet. Morgana looked triumphant and Arthur had no idea why.

"Very much, thank you," he replied politely. Her eyes flashed. "I suppose you are with Sir Gideon?"

"He's very lovely," she beamed. A strand of hair came loose from her gold band and she tucked it behind her ear impatiently. "He was so patient when I explained I had hardly ever danced with someone who wasn't you. I have to say Arthur; I am surprised you haven't danced with Lady Elaine yet. I'm sure she's a ravishing dancer," Morgana rolled her eyes but she didn't seem upset. "She seems to excel in everything."

"We've only been here for ten minutes," Arthur didn't know how to respond. Morgana seemed so...happy. And it wasn't because of something _he_ had done. It was a strange feeling. "But I've just got her a drink."

Morgana turned around and scanned the room. Arthur followed her gaze and stayed staring. To his horror Elaine, _his Elaine_, was dancing with that damned Gideon! Morgana swallowed. "I didn't expect that," she murmured. Their heads were close together and as Morgana and Arthur watched Gideon leaned in and kissed Elaine tenderly on the cheek. She blushed but did not seem displeased. Quite the opposite.

Arthur felt his heart detach from his body. The loveliest, sweetest, kindest, most beautiful lady who had agreed to accompany him to his father's banquet was sharing her first dance of the evening with Sir Gideon and allowing him to kiss her on her cheek. His mind drifted back to Morgana's claim that Elaine only agreed to go with Arthur because she thought Gideon would fail to ask her. It was true. Blatantly, obviously, foolishly true. He had been a fool not to see it.

Morgana sighed heavily. "Of course I knew very well you only asked Elaine to make me jealous," she observed cheerily. "So I suppose, no harm done?"

"No harm done?" exploded Arthur. "I'm humiliated! I'm, I'm – I'm devastated! Look at them! And no, for your information, I did not ask Elaine to make you jealous...I asked her to get rid of you!"

"What?" It was obvious she didn't believe him. "It's all right Arthur. I understand. You don't want me to know the full extent of your passionate feelings."

"I don't have any feelings for you!" he shouted exasperated. The music drowned out his words from the rest of the court. "Passionate or otherwise! When will you understand that? I asked Elaine because I wanted you to think we were together so you would finally leave me alone!"

Morgana didn't say anything for a few moments. Arthur silently wondered if he had gone too far again. But then she shook back her hair and rubbed her hands together. "Your father's watching us," she warned. Arthur forced a smile on to his face. Uther must have looked away because Morgana began to speak. "You wanted to make me believe that you and Elaine had feelings for each other so I would leave you alone?"

"Yes."

"But why?" She was genuinely puzzled, Arthur realised.

"Morgana," he began but then stopped. He could just imagine what would happen to him if his father saw Morgana storm out in tears. "Morgana, it doesn't matter. It didn't work all right? Elaine obviously prefers someone else's company so yes, my plan failed and you can go back to stalking me again."

"Before that, you'd better ask me to dance."

"I'm sorry?"

"Your father told me when I arrived that he wanted to see us dance at least once together."

Reluctantly Arthur led her on to the floor. She beamed. Morgana the stalker was back, it seemed. She danced gracefully and he was impressed but he refused to let it cloud his opinion of her. Morgana always danced gracefully, he reminded himself. She had a smile on her face the whole time they danced. It would have been sweet if Arthur was not so terrified of what the smile meant.

* * *

><p>The next morning Arthur woke to a small hand shaking his shoulders roughly. It was dawn outside; the pale pink gold glow illuminating his chamber. He groaned and tried to go back to sleep but the hands kept on shaking him.<p>

"Arthur, wake up!" It was Morgana. Naturally.

"Go away, Morgana," he moaned sleepily. "It's the middle of the night."

"Don't be an idiot, its morning and I want to show you something!"

"Show someone else."

"I can't; no one else would care."

"Morgana," he growled. "_I _don't care."

She chuckled softly to herself. "You will, when you see it."

She eventually succeeded in getting him up, dressed and groggily stealing through the castle to the back doors. They walked for miles through the woodland and fields at the back of the castle. Morgana floated along, breathing in the early morning air. She kept casting amused glances at a moody Arthur, stomping along complaining about the cold.

"Where are we going exactly?" He asked finally. Dawn was almost over.

"There's a field somewhere around here."

Arthur laughed humourlessly. He gestured around them impatiently. "You don't say, Morgana? In case you hadn't noticed, we're surrounded by fields." She ignored his sarcasm and raced forward. Arthur saw her slow and walk carefully up to a fence. Behind the fence was a grey donkey; old and tired-looking with big sad eyes, exactly like Morgana's. She was stroking it and speaking to it. Arthur edged forward and the donkey stepped backwards clumsily.

"Isn't he beautiful?"

Arthur studied him closely. The donkey was thin and raggedy with badly shorn grey fur. He looked like he was about to drop down dead but he certainly didn't look beautiful to Arthur. However Morgana seemed so expectant. "Yes, he's lovely," Arthur lied. "Who does he belong to?"

"Your father!" she laughed. "Isn't that wonderful? Look, the Pendragon sign is on the fence." Indeed it was.

"So he belongs to my father? Is that it? Can I go back to bed now?"

She ignored him and stroked the donkey's long face tenderly. "Your father's horses are kept in the field behind. I think he used to be with them but they bullied him so the groom had him moved. Poor thing."

"I don't understand why Father keeps it anyway," grumbled Arthur. The sun was far too high for him to be able to go back to bed when they finally returned to the castle. "What good is a donkey?"

Morgana frowned in reproach. "Arthur! The donkey would pull carts to market and back. The kitchen servants used him."

"I notice you're using the past tense."

"Well, look at him now. He's too old and frail to pull anything anymore. But Gwen told me when I asked her about him."

Arthur racked his brain. Gwen? Morgana noticed his bemusement and shook her head exasperated. "Honestly Arthur, how could you forget? Gwen is my new maid!"

That was it. He smiled and tried to look as if he'd known it all along. It must have worked because with a flick of her hair Morgana sighed and turned back to the donkey. "Morgana I still don't really understand why you dragged me out of bed at the crack of dawn to see a donkey."

"I thought you'd like him." Her eyes were big.

"Yes, yes, I _like_ him, of course I do but –," She wasn't listening and was murmuring to the donkey. Arthur gave up.

"Can we go back now?"

* * *

><p>"I showed Arthur your donkey today, my lord," Morgana showed no signs of fatigue to Arthur's annoyance. His eyes were heavy bags, itching with tiredness, his limbs were numb and his skin was chalky. She was as bubbly and annoyingly eager as ever. "He liked him, didn't you Arthur?"<p>

Arthur grinned weakly. Uther cocked his head, confused. "Donkey?" Arthur almost sighed in relief. He wasn't the only one, then.

"Yes sire; your donkey in the fields at the back of the castle. Don't you remember I told you a few days ago when I first found him?"

"What day exactly was it, child?"

"Tuesday."

Uther nodded in remembrance. "Ah, yes, that was the day the witch from the Lower Town was executed, wasn't it? You'll have to forgive me then for the donkey must have slipped from my mind."

Morgana didn't reply but she paled and lowered her eyes. Uther didn't notice and continued. "Hold on a moment children, is this the donkey that looks like a bag of bones?" Arthur stifled a grin at Morgana's offended expression. "I asked Gaius to arrange for somebody to come and put it down. I'd ask one of the guards but knowing them they'd shoot right past the beast and into one of my stallions."

Arthur swallowed loudly and swivelled his head slowly to look at Morgana. Her mouth was open, her eyes were fearful and her fists were clenched. "You're going to have the donkey killed?" Her voice was surprisingly strong and calm.

"Yes, Morgana, child. It's no use to anyone anymore." Uther drained his goblet and took another piece of bacon.

"But, but," the calmness was gone and Morgana seemed to choke on her own words. "You can't! You, you, just can't! That poor thing has never done anyone any harm and you're going to slaughter him, like, like, l-like a goose for your dinner table!"

Uther put his goblet down painfully slowly. "Morgana, I realise you are offended by the idea. That is just because you are a child and do not truly understand –,"

"– I'm fourteen years old!" She shouted; the anger now plainly visible on her face. "It's old enough to know the difference between right and wrong, something you should know too!"

"Morgana please!" Uther thundered. She fell silent at once, watching him out of wary eyes. "Do you think it is possible to always do what someone else thinks is right? Some people thought it was wrong to kill the witch but it still had to be done according to the law of this land. Sometimes you will think differently to me but you must always know that I am the king; I know what is right and what has to be done. Believe me child; I take no pleasure in the killing of a witless animal. But he is no use to me or to anyone. He uses up my fields, my grass and my time without giving anything in return. For that reason, he must go."

She had listened quietly but Arthur sensed her anger was only thinly disguised. At last Morgana spoke. "I use up your food, castle and time without giving anything in return. I am not your daughter, or any relation to you. It would save you time and money if I was not here. Shall I be executed too?"

She jumped from the table before Uther could reply and ran from the room. And as she left, Arthur could have sworn he heard the muffled sounds of tears.

**Thanks for reading :D**


	4. Chapter 4

"Father, is this necessary?" Arthur kept his gaze on his plate. His fried tomatoes had never been more intriguing. "Morgana is really very attached to the donkey. Maybe you could..." His voice trailed off. He had no idea what his father could do other than have the stupid thing put down.

"Arthur, it is good of you to speak up for Morgana like this," Uther favoured his son with a brief smile. "But she must learn to understand that I make the laws in this kingdom and if I decide to kill a worthless beast, I will do it. Trust me, I have no wish to hurt Morgana and wish there was something else that I could do. But there is not."

Arthur excused himself a few moments later and went in search of Morgana. As he expected she was in the field with the donkey. He got closer and stopped suddenly, blinking in disbelief. She was sitting beside the donkey as it lay on the grass and a metal chain connected her arm to its front leg. She was speaking quietly to it, her voice soothing. The donkey nuzzled its shorn head trustingly against her shoulder and for a brief second Arthur felt something warm inside his chest. It was such a Morgana thing to do, he thought affectionately.

"Arthur?" She noticed him. He clambered over the fence and joined her in the field.

"What in heaven are you doing?"

"Uther can't have the donkey killed if I'm chained to him. He won't risk harming me." She sounded so confident.

"Are you certain of that?" Arthur sat down beside her. "He's determined to, you know, put the donkey down." As he expected Morgana flinched at his words and curled herself closer to her donkey.

"I've decided to call him Gorlois," she announced a few minutes later. Arthur stared. The donkey was ragged and forlorn. It was hardly a fitting tribute to one of the country's finest warriors and Morgana's own dead father as well. "My father liked animals too. I think that's where I get it from."

Arthur didn't say anything for a while. He watched her fingers drape gently over 'Gorlois' and her mouth close to his neck. Her long dark hair covered her face but she was smiling. He could tell.

"What do you love most in the world Arthur?" She asked quietly.

Arthur hesitated. "I don't know," he replied eventually. He realised how lonely he sounded. "My father I suppose."

"I didn't say who, I said what." Morgana turned her head and met his gaze, smiling slightly with bright eyes.

He thought for a while. That answer was easier. "I love riding and fighting. I love watching Camelot grow and prosper. I love seeing my people content and peaceful," he paused. "Does that make sense?"

She nodded. "It does to me."

And with a jolt, Arthur realised that for the first time in a very, very long time, he was content in Morgana's company without feeling the urge to run away.

* * *

><p>Arthur awoke with a splitting headache. Unwillingly the events of the past day filtered through his head. Uther, Gaius and an unknown archer entering the field where he and Morgana sat with the donkey. Uther ordering Morgana to unchain herself against her violent refusals. Gaius trying to persuade her gently. In the end Uther forced the chain to break with his heavy sword and dragged a weeping Morgana away leaving Arthur with the archer. He had inclined his head before fitting an arrow to his bow and taking a step back. The donkey had watched him and then Arthur. And when the arrow was fired Arthur found his eyes had closed.<p>

Morgana had been given a sleeping draught and sent to bed. Arthur didn't want to ask for one and had spent the rest of the day listlessly walking around the castle grounds. When night came he slipped into sleep gratefully leaving a vicious headache to attack him once he woke.

Gaius was awake already and agreed to make Arthur a remedy for his headache. Arthur sat down at Gaius' table to wait, massaging his temples with his fist. Gaius had his back to him, hands busy with bottles and potions. "It was brave of Morgana to do what she did, you know."

Arthur's mouth dropped open. Gaius thought Morgana was brave? Because she had protested against the killing of a donkey? What a strange idea of bravery Gaius had. He made up his mind not to reply but the physician had not yet finished. "In life you find people are made up of colours –,"

"– Colours?" Arthur frowned in confusion. Gaius seemed sane but then again, he was quite old.

"Yes, colours. Some people are one colour, some are two. But then sometimes, once in a lifetime you meet somebody who is iridescent. I met one such person once, a long time ago," Gaius' eyes were lost in memory. "And I think you have too Prince Arthur."

"Do you mean...Morgana?"

"I do indeed, your Highness. And once you have found them, nothing else will ever compare."

* * *

><p>She knocked on his chamber door quietly and walked in when he answered. He looked up and immediately jumped up from his desk. "Morgana, are you –,"<p>

She interrupted him coldly. "I'd just like you to know I'm disappointed with you Arthur. I thought you were on my side. I thought you understood!"

"I do! I just –,"

"– no, you don't. That poor, poor donkey was the most innocent creature in Camelot and I thought you understood that. I thought you would stand up for me!" She stopped, her face crumpled.

Arthur came to her and placed a hand awkwardly on her shoulder. "Morgana, I'm really sorry. I know I should have helped you but I didn't want my father to think badly of me." Even to his own ears he sounded pathetic. And by Morgana's expression, she evidently agreed.

"I used to think you were the strongest person I knew. Now I don't know if I know you at all, Arthur."

She stormed out and Arthur fell backwards on to his bed with a groan. What happened to when Morgana was annoying and plain and awkward? What happened to when he used to spend days wondering how to get rid of her? Ever since she had first shown him the donkey, in fact no, ever since they had danced together at the ball he had started noticing things about her that he had never noticed before. Her hair was so long and dark, like the velvet midnight sky too dark to see the stars. Her eyes were so green and deep, like pools of cool water in the middle of the forest. She was so...clever and brave and he didn't know if she had always been that way or if he had only just started to see her. He groaned again and tried to push her from his mind. Damn Morgana. What was wrong with him?

He pushed his hair from his eyes and sat up. A few minutes later he was sitting in the great hall with Leon. He needed advice. "Wait a second Arthur, you hate Morgana!" Leon was laughing. Arthur regarded him stonily. "Don't you remember the time she pulled you down to the river and forced you to teach her how to swim? She spent hours down there with you and by the time you got back, your skin was all shrivelled up like a prune."

"Yes, I remember but –,"

"– and the time she took one of your wooden practice swords and wouldn't give it back until you promised to play with her and her dolls."

"We were six!"

"And the time she told you that the two of you would be getting married in ten years time and she'd already decided the bridesmaids would wear blue?"

"Yes, yes, I remember! Will you just help me please?"

"Just think about how much you hate her."

"Yes, but that's exactly it, I don't think I do anymore. Well, not really," Arthur swallowed. "I can't stop thinking about her. I care what she feels like. It's...it's so –, so, strange!"

Leon grinned widely. "You just feel guilty about the donkey thing. Forget about it and start thinking about someone else. Like, Elaine! You went with her to the banquet, didn't you?"

Arthur scowled. It was all over Camelot that Lady Elaine and Sir Gideon had recently got engaged following her sixteenth birthday. Besides Elaine was so shallow and petty compared to Morgana. She looked exactly like all the other ladies; blonde, curly hair, blue eyes and a silly simper.

He left Leon to it and made his way to the stables. To his pure consternation, Morgana was already there watching her horse being saddled. She sniffed contemptuously upon seeing Arthur and flipped her hair back over her shoulder in a gesture that was obviously supposed to be maturely disinterested. Arthur groaned inwardly and tried to retreat but at that moment one of the stable hands bowed and asked which horse his Highness wished to ride that afternoon.

"I don't care, any of them." He replied; his gaze averted from Morgana's stony face. She was clearly still angry with him over the donkey.

"You're going for a ride as well, Arthur?" She asked, taking her saddled horse and checking him carefully. Her voice was like ice on a chill winter's morning creeping up the glass of his window.

"I was going to. Why? Would you prefer it if I didn't?"

"Oh no," she began to lead her horse out of the stable slowly. "I don't care either way, Arthur. You must do as you please."

Arthur shook his head disbelievingly. There had never been a time when Morgana hadn't been interested in what he was doing. He could not believe it was going to start now. "Where are you going? Are you taking a guard?" His father would have him executed if he let Morgana go off and get killed or something.

Her voice echoed back from the stone of the courtyard. "It's none of your business." That meant no, then. He sighed. Once again he was forced into accompanying Morgana on her rides.

He mounted his horse swiftly and urged it into a trot to catch up with the figure disappearing through the drawbridge. She saw him coming and began to canter ahead. Gritting his teeth, Arthur sped his horse up and edged little by little closer to her. Morgana was forced to give up when he reached her and held out a hand to slow her down.

"I didn't ask you to come, you know."

"Yes, it's a first, isn't it?"

She glared at him but he laughed. He liked being like that. Teasing her. It felt natural. That was definitely a first too.

"So," He shifted in the saddle. "Where are we going this time?"

"I heard about a patch of wild lilies in the woods," she said grudgingly. "I wanted to pick a few for my room."

"Oh," He racked his brain for something nice to say. Who knew it would be so hard? "I'm sure they'll look...delightful."

She gave him a withering look. "Lilies symbolise that the soul of one who has departed this world has received eternal innocence in their death."

"Ah, I see. For the...donkey?"

"For Gorlois, yes."

"Don't you think that's a bit, well, a bit..." how could he put it without making things even more angry and confusing between them? "Extreme, maybe?"

Morgana's eyes flashed with fury and her horse snorted loudly, seemingly sensing her anger. "Yet again Arthur, you surprise me with how low you can get. Although I suppose after your earlier display of your cold heart and lack of loyalty, I shouldn't really be shocked."

Arthur stared. She was so...angry. "What happened to when you adored me and were so convinced that we were soul mates?" He found himself blurting out.

"I realised I didn't want an arrogant, selfish, unfeeling pig for a soul mate." She spat. With a final look of contempt she abruptly forced her horse around and set off at a wild gallop back to the city.

Arthur carried on to the woods. They were beautiful in the sudden bursts of sunlight through the cloud. What was wrong with him? Only a few days ago he had loathed the sight of Morgana. Only a few days ago he had known exactly who he was. Arthur Pendragon, Prince of Camelot, heir to the throne, the best warrior of his age and destined to be the greatest knight of Camelot. Who was he now? And why did he have the feeling that only Morgana knew?

He found the wild lilies. They were soft when he stroked their petals and willing when he cut their stem. He tucked a few into his belt and hoped it would be enough for Morgana to forgive him. And after that, he needed a lot more advice. He'd go to Kay next time.

* * *

><p>"What are those?" Morgana asked suspiciously. Arthur held out the slightly crushed lilies.<p>

"The lilies you wanted from the forest."

She stared at them in his hand for a long time. Arthur studied her face worriedly and when she raised her eyes to meet his, he was perturbed to see a small, amused smile playing on her lips.

"What's wrong?" He asked quickly. "Don't you like them?"

"I like them very much, Arthur," she smiled. "But these aren't lilies."

He held up the flower. It was a scarlet red. "What are they then?"

"Roses."

"And what do they signify?" There was something in her face, something in her eyes that made him desperately want to know.

She lowered her green eyes. "They are the lover's rose, Arthur. They represent enduring passion."

His hand was still holding the rose out towards her.

**I don't own the idea of someone being iridescent; it comes from the book 'Flipped' which I don't own either. Thanks for reading and double thanks for the reviews and story alerts! :) :)**


	5. Chapter 5

It had been slightly different since the..._rose_ incident. All right, not exactly the same as before with the obsessive stalking and strangeness and the blatant adoration but Morgana was talking to him again. Politely, distantly, indifferently, yes, but she had at least started again. Arthur tried again and again to convince himself that it was a good thing she'd started to leave him alone more. It was nothing to do with him; it was merely because Morgana had finally started to grow up. No, it was nothing to do with him or the donkey.

Kay thought it was all brilliant. He was a few years older than Arthur and they had known each other since they were young children. For years Kay had been a sort of unofficial big brother. He was sharpening his sword in the armoury when Arthur walked in, laughing with his friend Galahad. He glanced up and grinned warmly as he spotted the prince.

"Arthur! Are you all right?"

"Yes, thanks." He sat down tentatively beside the older boy and waited for a few seconds in silence. Kay and Galahad exchanged glances.

"Are you sure?"

Arthur hesitated before blurting it all out. "Kay, I'm so confused. Just a few weeks ago I hated her and I never wanted to see her but now...now, it's like I want to see her all the time and I can only think of the good things about her like how she stood up for the donkey even when she must have known my father would be against her and how she never needs anyone to stand up for her because she can do it for herself and how beautiful her eyes are and how long and silky her hair is and –,"

"– wait Arthur, slow down!" chuckled Kay affectionately. "Her? Who are you talking about first of all?"

Arthur stared at him as if he was mad. "Morgana, of course."

"Right, all right, Morgana," Kay paused and then asked delicately, "Morgana as in, your father's ward?"

"Yes."

"Ah, I see," Kay shot a worried glance at Galahad who was struggling to keep a straight face. "So, let me understand you perfectly, you used to hate Morgana, and I think perhaps the whole kingdom knew it," Arthur visibly cringed. "And now you think you might like her? As in, really like her? And you don't know why?"

Arthur sighed. Kay took it as confirmation and carried on. "It sounds to me like you're infatuated." He winked.

"Infatuated?" repeated Arthur slowly. "With Morgana?"

"I don't blame you Arthur," chuckled Galahad. "She's become quite beautiful."

"So I'm not the only one who thinks so then?" Arthur found himself sighing in relief. Then his chest tightened and he glared suspiciously at Galahad. "You would never...do anything, would you?"

Galahad smirked. "Don't be silly, Arthur. She's only ever looked at you. Unlike her mother."

Arthur's mouth dropped open. "What did you just say?"

Galahad shrugged lazily. "What do they call her mother? Isn't it the great slut of Cornwall? The Duke's whore?"

Arthur felt his insides turn to stone. He was about to punch the brain out of the senseless swine's skull but Kay coughed and pointed at the newly sharpened sword sitting by Galahad's feet. Galahad was bulky and muscled with far wider shoulders and thicker arms than Arthur. And Galahad would not hesitate to knock out the prince. Kay laughed nervously and before he could think about what he was doing Arthur copied his friend and gave a small laugh. Immediately after he regretted it but by then it was far too late.

* * *

><p>Morgana saw Arthur disappear into the armoury. She rolled her eyes. He seemed to have forgotten his father's summons to the great hall again. And once again it was up to her to drag him back in there. Exactly what she wanted to be doing.<p>

She walked slowly across the courtyard hoping Arthur would come out before she had to go in. She hated the armoury. It was so dark and dingy and full of glistening swords with sharp ends made to cut through a man's flesh. She could fight and despite Arthur's denials, she could fight well but Morgana knew very well she would never be able to fight in a real war, even if she was allowed to.

She stopped just outside the door and waited. Voices drifted out to her but she did not begin to listen until she heard her own name. Intrigued, she leant forwards to hear more.

"_Infatuated?" repeated Arthur slowly. "With Morgana?"_

"_I don't blame you Arthur," chuckled Galahad. "She's become quite beautiful."_

"_So I'm not the only one who thinks so then? You would never...do anything, would you?"_

"_Don't be silly, Arthur. She's only ever looked at you. Unlike her mother." There was a smirk in his voice. Morgana could almost hear it._

"_What did you just say?"_

"_What do they call her mother? Isn't it the great slut of Cornwall? The Duke's whore?"_

There was a brief pause and Morgana heard the sound that shattered her world irrevocably.

Arthur laughed.

* * *

><p>You're an idiot, Arthur Pendragon, he told himself brutally. You're the biggest idiot that walks the earth. You're weak, self-obsessed and damn foolish.<p>

He paused and took a deep breath, expelling the air from his lungs violently a moment later. Why did he laugh that morning? Why didn't he leap from his seat and remove the idiot Galahad's head from his shoulders? Never mind the sword by Galahad's feet. Morgana would have done it. If it had been Arthur's mother they were insulting, she would not have hesitated to fight. Her face as she had walked into the armoury to fetch him...he didn't want to think about it. She was raw; as if the very pain from her core was etched on to her lovely face. He hadn't dared to ask if she had heard Galahad's words. The dreamer part of him was hoping against hope that she had not whilst the realist part of him already accepted that she had and was desperately trying to think of a way to apologise.

That night Uther had chosen to dine alone and Arthur had summoned some food from the kitchens to eat in his chambers. The night was particularly pretty and he stood by his window watching the stars waiting for his supper. The door was assaulted by a swift knock and he answered absentmindedly.

"Set the plate on my table, would you?" He asked slowly, not bothering to turn around.

"I heard you laughing about my mother earlier," a tight, angry voice came from behind him. He spun around in shock. Morgana was in his doorway, her lips tightly pressed together. "I came to say that I don't want to speak to you anymore and I don't want you to speak to me."

She was gone before he could even draw breath. For the rest of the night he kept his chamber door tightly locked. It was a distinct possibility that at any moment Arthur would burst into tears. And he would rather have jumped naked from the highest turret of the castle than let anyone see him cry.

**Sorry for the long wait; here's Chapter Five! :)**


	6. Chapter 6

**To make up for the long wait for the last chapter, here's Chapter Six relatively quickly! ;)**

He tried and tried and tried again. Nothing worked. He asked her about her horse. About her dresses. He enquired about her day, her friends and whatever it was girls did for fun. Nothing worked. Morgana's lips were sealed like a letter with wax and nothing Arthur said or did could rip them open. This time he was far too embarrassed to ask for advice, from _anyone_. His father hadn't noticed, Kay was away with the army and Leon had taken to laughing hysterically whenever Arthur tried to raise the subject. Extremely helpful. No, Arthur knew he had to do this on his own. He was in the wrong; he had laughed at Galahad's foulmouthed joke; he was the idiot. He blinked as that thought popped into his head. Goodness, he didn't think _that thought_ very often.

"Morgana, do you want to go for a walk to the market?" Arthur asked one morning. It had rained all night and the air was fresh and cool. She was sitting in the great hall, drawing something. She didn't bother looking up.

"No, thank you." Her voice was crisp as if speaking to Arthur was a necessity rather than a choice.

"Are you sure?" He was reluctant to give up. "It's a nice day."

"I'm sure it is."

Arthur admitted defeat and wandered down to the market himself. He didn't know what to do. The hopeless feeling that swallowed him was unfamiliar and frightening. Arthur Pendragon was usually the one in control. He pulled the rug from under people's feet. He gave orders and shouted and made people feel like they were nothing. Yet Morgana had done exactly that to him. It was an uncomfortable feeling, like having an extra skin. Hot, heavy and impossible to get rid of.

The market was tedious without Morgana's chatter. Stalls selling geese, chicken, pigs, vegetables, fruit, wood and fabric. He paused at the jewellery stall. The woman behind it eyed him excitedly. "Are you interested in a necklace perhaps, sire?" she beamed. "Or maybe a pretty bracelet? Or I have some beautiful sapphire earrings all the way from Greece!" Arthur doubted that very much but allowed the woman to describe all her wares without interruption.

His eye was caught by a simple thin gold chain adorned with a single teardrop emerald the exact colour of Morgana's eyes. He picked it up gently. "What do you know about this?" He asked the woman slowly.

She scrunched up her nose thoughtfully. "It isn't my most valuable piece," she began. "It's Welsh, from some remote corner where they have a lot of those emeralds. I took it as a favour from a friend actually; they inherited it from some old ancestor and didn't want it so she gave it to me to sell. I haven't had much luck with it, to be honest your Highness. It's really worth nothing."

Arthur smiled. Morgana would not care anything for its worth in coins. "How much do you want for it?" He asked.

Her eyes betrayed her astonishment. "Do you really want that necklace, sire? How about this one?" She pointed to a thick silver necklace hung with all manners of rubies and diamonds. It was horrible.

"No, thank you, I will take this one. How much do you want for it?" He said again.

"You can have it for nothing, my lord," the woman replied. "I doubt I'd be able to sell it anywhere."

"No, no," Arthur emptied his pocket and handed the woman three gold coins. "Here, take this. And thank you!" Before she could protest Arthur was off, the chain hanging over his hand delicately.

* * *

><p>At the castle Arthur found Morgana in the flower gardens, sketching the various petals. She noticed his arrival and hastily began to gather her things. "Don't go just yet, Morgana," Arthur pleaded. She waited with a stony face. "I've got you something."<p>

"Whatever it is, I don't want it." She stood.

"Wait, please! Look at it," He thrust the necklace at her and she took it unwillingly. "See? It's the same colour as your eyes."

"I didn't think you knew what colour eyes I have." But she gazed at the necklace and a hint of admiration shaded her eyes.

Satisfied, Arthur turned to leave but he was horrified to hear a distant clang. His head snapped around and he was just in time to see the necklace fall in the distant grass.

Morgana had thrown it away.

"Why did you do that?" He shouted. "I bought it for you to wear, not to throw away, you stupid fool!"

"Oh and we're back to the normal Arthur, full of insults!" She cried. "I wondered how long it would be until you recovered. I'm impressed; you lasted longer than I thought."

"Why did you throw it away?" He repeated angrily. "It's just the sort of thing you would do Morgana!"

"I told you I didn't want it!" She answered venomously and sat back down to her flowers. "You should start listening to me more closely Arthur. You might learn something."

"Yes, like what?" He scoffed.

"Like, I don't want to speak to you anymore. Like, I don't like you. Like, you're a horrible little boy who deserved to be thrown off the turrets because you're so horrible? I don't know Arthur, you choose which one."

"Yes well, I think I know everything I need to," he blustered. She always bested him in arguments. "I know that...that you're ungrateful and you hold a grudge too much. And – and that you should accept gifts when they are given!"

"I don't know how you live Arthur," she replied icily. "But I don't accept things from people I don't like. As for holding a grudge, I usually pride myself on being able to forgive easily. God knows, I've done it enough for you over the years but now I'm stopping. You don't deserve my forgiveness Arthur."

He didn't know who she was. Where was the little girl who talked for hours? She had been replaced by a cold womanly creature who sketched flowers instead of dolls and followed fashion rather than Arthur.

He walked away from her, still fuming but minutes later, safely in his own chamber, Arthur felt the remnants of his anger disappear. Why would Morgana forgive him just because he had given her a cheap necklace? He had been wrong to assume that she would.

* * *

><p>It was time for another banquet. Uther announced it at dinner a week later to two silent children. One was a soft silence; moulded by sadness and resignation. The other was hard; carved by anger and disappointment. "Why are you both so sad?" Uther enquired, surprised. "You both liked the last banquet."<p>

Arthur managed a small smile. The last banquet and everything that had gone with it...Elaine, Gideon, Morgana. It all seemed so long ago. It _was_ long ago. Arthur would be fifteen in two weeks. Almost a man.

"Anyway, I thought to prevent anything complicated arising...I will choose who you accompany. If you accompany anyone at all," This immediately awoke Arthur's attention. _Please, please, please, please... _"Morgana, I've asked Sir Galahad to accompany you," Arthur's heart dropped into the foundations of the castle. "Arthur, I think it best if you don't accompany anyone this time."

"Why Father?" He asked, bemused. He mentally went through the past month wondering if he had done anything to warrant his father's disapproval.

"It will be easier for you to speak to as many guests as possible that way," his father explained. "I'm inviting the representatives of many other kingdoms. I want you to be my heir; dedicated to the kingdom rather than to the pretty girl on your arm. Do you understand?"

Arthur understood. He glanced at Morgana. But Galahad? How could she bear attending with the same man who had made such a spiteful remark about her own mother? Arthur was funny about mothers. Morgana was not, yet surely anyone with half a soul would refuse Galahad in Morgana's situation. She said nothing, just continued to eat. He briefly considered protesting on Morgana's behalf but the image that followed in his mind of a furious Morgana attacking him for interfering was enough to put him off. After all, he reasoned, she knew her own mind.

The banquet was settled for the night before Arthur's fifteenth birthday and his presents would be given to him then. As the day approached he couldn't help thinking Morgana wouldn't give him one. She had never missed his birthday. Never. No matter what crazy, useless gift she gave him, she had always given him something. He knew it was selfish but the worry ate away at him and he wondered if yet again Morgana would humiliate him. Everyone would expect something lavish from her.

For his tenth birthday she had sewed him a shirt embellished with old Cornish gold coins from her own collection. He had never actually worn the shirt (it was far too heavy) but it had made a deep impression and Arthur had never been able to throw it away because Morgana would have an annoying habit of demanding to see it every once in a while.

For his twelfth birthday she had bought him a greyhound. The dog was lithe and loyal but had only lasted just over a year before dying of some dog disease. Morgana had been heartbroken but Arthur hadn't minded that much. All it did was follow him around and ruin all the grass in the castle grounds with its constant sprinting everywhere.

Last year's birthday she had done a variety of things. First was a small canary in a cage. Arthur had faked a smile and handed it to the nearest servant. When Morgana enquired about it he laughed and said that the bird had somehow gotten free and was enjoying the high life with all the other escaped canaries. For all Arthur knew it had been the servant's dinner that night. Morgana wasn't stupid but she was innocent and she did like to believe the best. So she believed Arthur. But then she had presented him with a sketch of him as a young boy with floppy blonde hair and wide eyes. He had almost liked that one, not least because it was easily tucked away in a cupboard ready to be forgotten.

But last of all was the worst. Morgana had taken it upon herself to learn a new dance imported from the Goths. She had pulled Arthur to his feet and literally forced him to dance it with her. In front of the whole court. To whistles and jokes and laughter and applause. Arthur had thought the red would never have faded from his face.

And yet even worse than the humiliation of last year was the worry that perhaps he would do nothing. Perhaps he would wait for Morgana to present her gift and she just...wouldn't. Because there wasn't one. Was it selfish to think like that? Arthur couldn't help it, even if it was. It wasn't because he wanted a present. God knew, he got enough but the fact that after all those years of Morgana being annoying and loud and such a girl about his birthday and suddenly stopping now; it made him feel strange inside. It was as if someone had replaced his stomach with a cage of canaries and they were all fluttering around, desperately trying to escape.

The feeling continued until the day of the banquet. Arthur woke early that morning and lazily watched the sun grow more and more yellow until he was fully woken by a servant's knock and the panic set in.

He dressed swiftly and headed outside. The servants were bustling around with baskets and bundles, preparing for the evening but they all had a smile on their face. Camelot loved a celebration and their prince's fifteenth birthday seemed like a good enough one, judging by the warm looks as they passed him.

He spent most of the day hiding in the stables talking to the horses. It struck him that that was the sort of thing Morgana would do; spend her day with animals but despite it, he stayed there. Well, he reasoned, he had nothing better to do with the day.

That evening Arthur thought his heart would burst out of his chest. He would have to deal with the possibility of Morgana embarrassing him in front of anyone as well as the fact she was accompanied by the idiot who had caused her to hate Arthur even more in the first place! Angry, Arthur pulled his shirt on in a fury, ripping it. Growling loudly he tore it off violently and threw it to the ground. Being soft it did nothing more than float gently to the floor and Arthur stamped on it when it finally reached the stone. Finally he was ready and went to greet his father.

"You look very charming Arthur," Uther gave him a rare compliment. Despite his foul mood, Arthur could not help but be pleasantly surprised and thanked the king graciously. "I hope tonight is a success for you, my son."

"I'm sure it will be, Father," came the short reply.

Uther studied his son's face for a brief moment. "Arthur, I know I don't ask you this enough but...but, what do you think about Morgana?"

Arthur's eyes met his father's in astonishment. "Morgana? Father, this is sudden. What's brought this enquiry on?"

"I don't know. I suppose with it being your fifteenth birthday tomorrow and Morgana's soon after...well I suppose it just struck me that all these years I've watched the two of you grow up and in the back of my mind was the hope that one day, perhaps, the two of you might marry."

Arthur didn't know what to say and satisfied himself with a cough and a tap of his foot against the hard floor.

"But you see Arthur, the other thing is, you are not under any obligation to marry Morgana. She's grown into a very pretty, delightful girl and she'll be a beautiful woman but that isn't everything. You have to feel something more and I didn't want you to think you were forcing yourself to have feelings you wouldn't naturally have for my approval."

"Father," began Arthur steadily. "I don't quite know what you mean."

"To be frank, do you think you could ever see Morgana as anything more than a sister or a friend?"

"I've never thought of her as my sister," he replied honestly. "And I think I do like her but isn't it a bit early to be thinking about marriage?"

Uther shook his head and smiled. "Of course, you're right. It's enough that you get on so well together, I suppose. For now."

They entered together; so alike despite the years between them and the court smiled to see the present united in such a way with the future. Uther took his seat at the head of the table, followed by the rest of the guests. Arthur allowed his eyes to flick around the great hall casually. Yes, she was there, seated at a lower table with Galahad. He was speaking to her and she was politely listening but Arthur could tell she was bored out of her mind. It was Morgana's gift, he thought, that she could make you believe she was intrigued by every word you said.

She caught his gaze suddenly and her face changed. It suddenly became animated and Arthur watched her counter Galahad's conversation with an astute remark of her own. Galahad blinked and carried on talking with even more vigour than he had before. Arthur scowled. Clearly she was finding him _fascinating_.

He ate in silence answering questions with one or two words until Uther shot him a worried glance. He looked over at Morgana who was laughing at something Galahad said brightly. Too brightly, if you ask me, thought Arthur darkly.

The meal was over when he finally knew he couldn't sit there and say nothing any longer. As if in a dream, he stood, pushing his chair from him with the back of his legs and walked to her. She saw him and with eyes that questioned his sanity, watched him approach the table.

"Oh, Arthur, are you all right?" Galahad smirked.

Arthur ignored him.

"Why are you here with him?" He demanded of her.

"Your father decided it, not I." Her voice was blank.

"Why did you agree?" Arthur struggled to quieten his voice. Guests were beginning to look at them and behind him he could feel his father's gaze scorch his back. But he could not move until he had an answer. He wanted an answer that explained exactly why he felt as he did and why Morgana had stopped feeling as she once had.

"Please don't make a scene Arthur," Morgana stood and smiled apologetically at Galahad. "Excuse me for a moment."

Arthur took her arm and pulled her behind the table in one fluid move. She removed herself from his gasp firmly. "What do you want?"

Her eyes were so green and light, like fairies. Arthur knew nothing about fairies but as a child he had imagined they would look as Morgana's eyes looked at that moment.

Then he leaned in and attempted to kiss her.

At once she recoiled and gave him such a look of horror that Arthur wondered if he had suddenly grown fangs. But then she retreated hurriedly and rushed from the hall, the muted sound of her tears fading away into the stone corridor.

The hall was silent. Arthur felt his cheeks burn as he heard a snigger from where Galahad was sitting. He wheeled around and followed Morgana out of the door, ignoring the hot pain of embarrassment that was flooding his veins.

He had to find Morgana. And quickly.

**Uh oh... ;D**

**Thank you for reading and reviewing, it just makes writing it all the more fun!**


	7. Chapter 7

"I'm sorry sire but Lady Morgana doesn't want to see you," the dark-haired maid mumbled the words but they were as clear as glass to Arthur. "She doesn't want to see anyone at the present."

"Can't you just tell her that I'm sorry?" he sounded desperate and he knew it but he didn't know what else to say. He had tried to kiss her, in front of everyone. He had humiliated himself and her. Of course she didn't want to see him. Still, he was finding it impossible to give up. She'd been locked in her room since last night and Uther was beginning to sound concerned.

Guinevere sighed awkwardly. "I'll try, Prince Arthur." Then she walked down the corridor, shooting anxious glances at Arthur as she went.

He went back to his own room. As he collapsed back on to his bed he was struck by the irony of it all. Months ago he had hated Morgana and everything she did. She had been his constant friend and admirer and refused to take no for an answer. Now it was his turn to be the spurned one, the one who was hated rather than able to hate. She wanted nothing to do with him and in his heart of hearts, he couldn't blame at her. It had been wrong of his father to shoot the donkey but it had been a sin on Arthur's part not to take Morgana's side. It had been unfair of Galahad to insult Morgana's late mother but it had been horrific of Arthur to laugh and pretend that he agreed. He didn't want to but he tried to remember his own mother. There was nothing. The only thing he could recall about her was the portrait of her in his father's quarters and the way he used to sit there for hours with Morgana, the two of them trying to work out which features Ygraine had given to her son. Morgana had been generous and convinced Arthur he was the exact likeness of his mother, even as diplomats and ambassadors congratulated him on resembling the mighty Uther so much. He tried to imagine somebody insulting his mother. A foreign tidal wave of fury rushed through his body and that was when he had never known his mother. Morgana had vivid memories of hers. It must make it a million times worse.

He rolled over in frustration. He could do nothing, nothing! He would spend the rest of his life apart from her until she married some lord and left Camelot. His father would die and he would spend his days searching for another Morgana. Iridescent. He hadn't seen it at the time but then he realised Gaius was right. Morgana was iridescent. Once in a lifetime, Gaius had said. That meant he never would find another Morgana. His own selfishness had put paid to any happiness he may have expected to have. And there was no one to blame but himself.

The next morning was cool and silent. The sparrows that usually woke him were not present and he slept in late, the servants choosing not to enter his room. Arthur woke with the groggy feeling of sleeping for too long and groaned as he remembered everything. On his way to the courtyard he knocked on Morgana's door.

"Who is it?" she called out thickly.

He hesitated. If he pretended to be a servant maybe she would unlock the door. "It's a servant," he creaked in a high-pitched voice. "I've brought you breakfast, my lady."

"Go away Arthur."

He waited for a second but she didn't say anything else and he left, disheartened. He decided he would not do anything that day but walk to the Lower Town and try to think of anything but Morgana. Difficult, he admitted, maybe even impossible but there was no way he would be able to hide his feelings from his father at dinner if he didn't at least try.

* * *

><p>The market was busy that morning; there seemed to be a demand for chickens and dozens were milling about, scratching for corn and making a loud racket. Raucous voices bargained and sold, interspersed with loud, arrogant laughter and the occasional insulting remark. As he wandered through the streets Arthur listened in fascination. These people had such different lives to him; it was incredible to think they could live at all.<p>

"Your Highness," a reedy voice called out. Arthur turned around. Another jewellery stall. He made to smile and walk away but his eye was caught by a huge pink diamond.

The man on the stall had thin, greedy eyes and saw Arthur's attention caught by the ugly jewel. He held it up but Arthur was no longer interested. It had been the gaudy thing that caught his eye but he had swiftly noticed a pearl necklace next to it, plain in comparison with the diamond but achingly familiar.

"You like this, Your Highness?" asked the man, still holding the pink diamond. "Well, perhaps –,"

"Where did you get that from?" Arthur pointed past the diamond to the pearl necklace.

The man was confused. He placed the diamond down and slowly picked up the pearl necklace. "This, sire?"

"Yes. Where did you get it from? I seem to recognise it."

A flash of something strange went through the man's eyes and he ducked under the stall and began to run. Arthur called out and sprinted after him. The man dodged stalls and chickens and disappeared down an alley, still clutching the pearl necklace. He glanced back and cried out as he saw Arthur was gaining on him.

"Stop!" cried Arthur, futilely. The man didn't stop and came to a wall. With a terrified look on his face, he leapt at the wall and clambered up like a monkey. Arthur followed, his stronger arms allowing him to climb up faster. On the other side, in the poor part of the city Arthur jumped down and reached out. The man had injured his ankle in the fall from the wall and was sprawled on the ground, moaning in pain. The necklace had fallen from his hand and lay on the dirty ground. Arthur picked it up quickly and examined it. He would have staked the kingdom that he had seen it somewhere before. He bent down and effortlessly pulled the man to his feet. He stumbled but Arthur shook him impatiently.

"Tell me now," he demanded. "Where did you get this necklace and why did you run when I mentioned it?"

The man groaned and muttered something. He tried to wriggle away but Arthur's grip merely tightened. "Tell me."

He coughed. "Fine," he panted. Sweat ran obscenely down his grimy face. "Fine, I'll tell you, prince."

Arthur waited. "Go on then."

"Let me sit, I beg you." The man seemed genuinely exhausted so Arthur pushed him on to an upturned barrel. He sat next to him on another, one hand still gripping the man's bony shoulder. The necklace was in Arthur's other hand, coiled tightly.

"On the night of the queen's death," the man began slowly. His eyes darted everywhere. "There was chaos. Nobody knew what was happening. We all thought the kingdom was falling apart," Arthur moved uncomfortably. "I was working in the castle at the time, in the kitchens, running errands for the cooks. They were making something; I forget what, for the queen. We all assumed she would survive. The king had the best doctors from all over the country and his own physician, the old man. We were just waiting for the panic to subside and the king to take charge again. I was told to take the bowl to Queen Ygraine and wish her well from the kitchen staff. I knew the boy," he inclined his head to Arthur. "Had been born already and we thought it was a matter of time before everything was cleared. I expected to find Queen Ygraine sat up in bed holding her baby, perhaps in a little pain, perhaps a little sick. The king had told us nothing. But it was... it was like hell. I first heard the screaming from down the corridor that led to her chambers. I thought we must have misheard the maid, that the labour was not over and she was still giving birth. I crept into the room and saw the poor, poor queen dying. I left the bowl on the side and noticed the necklace. Nobody saw me. Nobody even knew I was there. I took it," Arthur's heart stopped for a moment. "Yes, Your Highness, I took the necklace and kept it for fifteen years."

"What made you decide to sell it now?" To his disgust, Arthur found his voice was raspy. He cleared his throat determinedly. "And why take it at all?"

"You don't know what it was like when the queen was alive, with all due respect, sire," the man replied. "She was worshipped, adored, venerated. She was the epitome of beauty. Every man wanted to love her, every woman wanted to be her. To know that she was departing from the world, to know that I could have just one small part of her to take with me...it was too much to resist."

"So why do you now wish to part with it for money?"

"My own wife died in childbirth six months ago leaving me with our seven children. I had no choice if I didn't wish us all to starve."

Finally Arthur released the solid grip. The man moved his shoulder gingerly. Arthur spread out his palm and stared down at the necklace in his hand. He thought for a long time. Eventually he dangled it out towards the man. "Here, take it. Sell it and buy food for your children."

The man's eyes were like a black hole. Dark and wide and unfathomable. "B-but I can't! You've caught me now, aren't you going to have me executed? I stole from your dying mother!"

"Exactly," Arthur replied shortly. "My dead mother. I didn't know her but I'm sure she would rather a family of eight were saved from starving than her necklace was locked inside a vault."

The man choked on his gratitude. "You are too kind," he coughed out. "Thank you."

Arthur shrugged but his heart twisted slightly as the necklace dropped into the man's hands. _Think of his children,_ he reminded himself furiously. Then he was gone, shuffling away, casting happy, disbelieving looks behind at the prince. Morgana would have behaved exactly the same way, he knew. He imagined her there, listening calmly to the man's story, asking probing questions that would have revealed even more, silently deciding whether or not he was telling the truth. Or she would have known at once, with one stern look into his face, into his eyes, straight to his soul. Either way, she would have known.

* * *

><p>It was hard on the way back to the castle to keep his mind away from her and after a while he gave up. He drifted past everything in a whirl of confusion and guilt, oblivious to all that he passed. So it was strange, he thought, when he suddenly stopped and came face to face with something large and bulky when he had spent all his time in day dreams. Arthur halted, looking up to the object in his way. It was hulking and unwieldy and a smudgy grey. His eyes adjusted. He was staring into the warm brown eyes of a donkey.<p>

It coughed in his face, unimpressed with the prince. Its owner stood several metres behind, ushering a gaggle of geese into separate pens unaware of the visitor. Arthur studied the animal carefully. It looked quite young and strong and healthy. Its legs were short but stocky, its fur was thick and luxurious and its eyes were bright and inquisitive. He stepped around it and walked towards the owner. The donkey watched him.

"Excuse me," Arthur tried to get the woman's attention. Her broad back was turned away from him and she was muttering to the geese. "Excuse me!"

She whizzed around, showing startled small grey eyes, a long nose, pursed lips and a double chin. Straw-like hair was fastened into a hairnet haphazardly. She wiped her hands on her apron. "What can I do for you?"

She didn't appear to recognise him. Arthur cleared his throat. "I'd like to buy this donkey."

The woman laughed hysterically. Feeling foolish, Arthur waited for her to stop. It was an age before she wiped her eyes and coughed. "Good heavens," she chuckled. "It's not often I hear one like that, let me tell you boy."

"I'm not joking."

Her small eyes opened further. "They all say that, lad," she replied with humour still evident in her voice. "Yet none of them can pay when the time comes."

"Do you know who I am?" He cringed. It sounded even worse than it had in his head.

She rolled her eyes. "I'm sure you're going to tell me."

Arthur hesitated. "Well, yes, I am as it happens. I'm Prince Arthur, son of your king. Now, can I buy your donkey?"

"Look lad, or Prince Arthur, whatever you like to be called, it doesn't make a dash of difference to me. I still have to feed my hungry geese in the morning whether a boy has my donkey or not."

"But I will pay good money!" He dug about in his pockets and drew out a handful of gold coins. She stared unashamedly. "See?"

She had the grace to blush. "I-I do apologise my lord," she stuttered. "I d-didn't realise. You s-s-see, I often get –,"

"Yes, yes, I understand," Arthur pushed a handful of coins at her and untied the coarse rope that trapped the donkey to the wooden pole. "Thank you."

The donkey didn't want to leave. He snuffled at Arthur's sleeves and brayed loudly when Arthur tried to lead him away. Embarrassed, Arthur tugged at the rope but the animal was adamant and dug his hooves into the dust. The woman struggled to hide her amusement as she handed the prince a carrot. At once the donkey followed the orange vegetable and Arthur manoeuvred the bulky thing away, up the winding street and in sight of the castle gates. The guards stared amazed but Arthur ignored them, instead taking the donkey in the direction of the meadows.

He avoided the one where 'Gorlois' had been kept and headed into one that hadn't been used for years. Dandelions grew as plentifully as the long grass and wild daisies collected in patches here and there. The donkey immediately started munching when Arthur let him go and for good measure, tossed the carrot after it. Then he left for the castle. He had something to show Morgana.

**I'm so sorry for the incredibly long wait but here's the new chapter and I really hope the next one doesn't take so long but I can't promise anything as I have tons of exams at the moment. Still, thank you for reading! :)**


	8. Chapter 8

At first she refused to leave her room. He begged her and pleaded with her and promised to do anything she wanted. Then he threatened he would stay there all day and all night and wouldn't leave until she left the chamber and followed him outside. Still Morgana stayed locked inside her bedroom.

Arthur slumped against the wall. "You do realise I will stay here all day?"

He heard a faint chuckle. "You'll get hungry," she called. "So no, you won't."

"You underestimate me."

"I don't think so, Arthur. I don't think it's possible to underestimate you."

He sighed. "If I tell you what this is about and you decide it's important enough, will you come outside?"

There was a long pause. Then the door groaned and swung open slowly revealing a slim pale-faced girl with long dark hair and large light eyes staring at him warily. They looked at each other for a long time. Then she nodded. "I believe you," she said finally, as though admitting to a weakness. "I'll follow you."

Arthur stood there, stunned and then jerked into action. He sped down the hallways, reassured by the soft thud of Morgana's shoes behind him. She would love the donkey, he knew she would. She would forgive him for taking his father's side over 'Gorlois' and for ignoring her for years and then for kissing her. She would forgive him and he could prove to her he'd grown up and was capable of being, well, of being a good person. Who would have thought it would prove to be so hard?

It was hot outside. The sun glared down at them and the long grass of the meadows trembled in the merciless beams, rippling as the two of them passed by silently. Arthur longed to say something, anything that would ease the crippling awkwardness that hung between them but there was nothing he could say. He sneaked a glance at Morgana's hard-set face and convinced himself to wait. She would love the donkey, of course she would.

They approached the field. He saw her squint at the grey smudge against the hazy golden horizon. Then her mouth fell open and she spun to face Arthur incredulously. "Is that a –," she trailed off and before Arthur could speak she had started running, racing towards the donkey, her laughter carried in the still air.

He followed her, hurrying behind. Ironically he wondered if it would always be like this: Morgana flying ahead and he always trying to catch her, make her forgive him, make right something he had done wrong. Then she reached the donkey and the thought was knocked out of his head.

Morgana clambered over the fence and was upon the beast before he could be startled. She buried her face in the scratchy fur and the sounds of tears reached an apprehensive Arthur. She was crying into the donkey, he realised. Her lips moved soundlessly against its neck, her hands spreading over its back.

"My poor darling," she murmured. "It's all right. I'm here."

Arthur stepped forward. "Morgana?"

She stiffened.

"Morgana...is everything...all right?"

Her face turned around, pale and streaked with tears. "Yes?"

Her voice was thick and full of tears but she was speaking to him. Arthur breathed in the musky air deeply and fiddled with the hem of his shirt carefully. "Any chance of being forgiven then?"

"That depends."

"On...?"

"What you want forgiving for."

"Oh," he paused for a moment. "Well, I'm sorry for what Galahad said. It was wrong of me not to defend you. I'm sorry for embarrassing you when I tried to, well, you know," he stopped. She was listening intently although her face was still facing the donkey. He could tell by the hunch of her slender shoulders. She was riveted. "And I'm sorry for not helping you with the donkey before when Father killed it. That was terrible of me too and well," he swallowed. "I'm awfully sorry."

"I forgive you."

Arthur blinked. "W-what?"

She shrugged. "I forgive you."

Well. He struggled to understand. "I don't...do you mean...Morgana – what? I thought you hated me."

"Oh, I do."

"B-but," he spluttered. "You just forgave me!"

"It's all right. I've decided I can hate you without having to hold a grudge. It's much better for my health if I forgive you and simply treat you with...well, indifference." Her hand stroked the donkey steadily.

Arthur was suddenly overcome with anger. "Bloody hell, what else do you want? I was humiliated at the banquet too when you decided to run off and I went to the town and gave you a stupid necklace which you threw away, remember, and then I bought this damn thing and after all that you still can't bring yourself to be civil. What more can I do Morgana? Do you want me to cut off my own legs? Or shoot my horses? Or shave my head? Whatever it is, I'll –,"

She interrupted him quickly, turning around. Her eyes were white hot with rage. "You think I'm being unfair and cruel and stupid? And I suppose you think you're some sort of angel, don't you? Darling, sweet, spoilt Arthur who can do whatever he wants and get away with it because nothing is ever his fault! I was lonely Arthur; I wanted a friend! And day after day, month after month, year after year, I begged you to be my friend and all you could do was humiliate me, hurt me, every chance you got. Laughing about your 'stalker' with your friends, chasing after girls who were as different from me as it's possible to get, building up my hope with a smile and then killing me in the next moment when you called me 'strange' or 'annoying.' You were just a child Arthur, it's true, but you seem to forget that I was just a child too." She finished, gasping for air as though she had just been plunged underwater.

Arthur felt as though he had been plunged too. He could taste the bitter salty tang of regret in his mouth and the cold droplets of shame running down his neck. She was right. He had been a monster. He had treated her like less than a human. It couldn't have been worse than if he'd physically hurt her.

"_I was lonely Arthur; I wanted a friend!" _Her words made him want to cry. Unwillingly the image of her as a child came back to him. Alone and desperately missing her father. All he had wanted to do was get away from her or he might think about his mother and then he might have cried. Selfish. Was that all he could be?

"Tell me what to do," he said desperately. "To make it better. I'll do anything, I promise. Morgana, I'm so –,"

"No," she shook her head. "There's nothing you can do."

She meant it, he could tell.

* * *

><p>There was nothing he could do. Nothing he could do. He could do nothing. He, Arthur, could do nothing.<p>

He could do nothing.

He stayed in the field with the donkey long after Morgana left. The sun was setting in a blazing orange sky before it came to him. He could do nothing...but the donkey could.

"Would you do that?" he muttered. "Would you help me?"

The donkey snorted. Arthur took that as a yes.

* * *

><p>A week later Morgana was hiding, no, that wasn't right, she was <em>resting<em> in her room. She tried to read. The words buzzed like flies on the page. She tried to sew. The needle slipped and jabbed her finger whenever she moved it. She tried to sleep. Flashing images came to her of things she had tried to forget over the years. She tried to draw. The pencil fell to the stone floor and snapped in two. Just like Morgana had. All she could do was sit and think.

What was love? For her it was the ability to face anything, feel anything, forgive anything and still love the same as you had before. For her it was giving your whole self away and trusting that the person to whom you gave it was astute enough to keep it safe. Morgana had always viewed her 'love' for Arthur as something exciting and romantic. Her love for Arthur had been the ocean, always changing, always shifting into something wider and bluer. Dotted with bottle-nosed dolphins and basking sharks and brightly coloured salmon and vibrant seaweed and the black rocks that jutted out of the expanse of sea, her love for Arthur had been her girlish idea of romance.

Now it had quietened.

She loved him still but the ocean had moulded itself into a river. Pure, refreshing, natural but steady. The sea would never stop changing and in some ways, neither did the river but then, it was always the same somehow. The river was always filled with trout. The river always had slippery green moss growing on the multi-coloured pebbles within it. The river was always covered with the shade of the weeping willows. The ground was always brown and yielding. The water always cool and light. The river was strong and so was Morgana. And she had poured every last drop of her strength into loving the boy who might one day be a man.

It was getting late. The sun had almost set. With a sigh, she pulled the curtains across her window. Suddenly a pebble hit the glass. Jumping, she peered behind the thick drapes and stared down into the courtyard. Another stone hit the glass and terrified the glass would shatter over her face, Morgana yanked the clasp and the window creaked open. It was Arthur, it had to be. Nobody else would be so stupid.

"What do you want?" she snapped loudly.

"Come down!" he called up.

"Oh yes, jump down from here and kill myself. You'd love that, wouldn't you?"

"No, go down the stairs!"

"Arthur, I'm tired –," she broke off as she heard a snort. "Is that – have you got the donkey there?"

He laughed. "You'll have to come down and see."

Now he'd done it. She'd never be able to resist going down to have a look. Grumbling to herself about her own nosiness she pulled her robe and slippers on. She didn't bother to comb her hair or wash her face. Arthur wouldn't appreciate the effort and she didn't think she would anymore. Let her be tangled with a grimy face. It was better than being pretty.

Arthur's face gleamed in the last remnants of the sunset. "Arthur, this had better be something good."

"Don't worry, it is." He led her over to the donkey and Morgana gasped. It was covered in all kinds of flowers. Tulips, roses, lilies, violets, daisies, poppies, orchids...it went on and on. She was surprised the poor thing hadn't collapsed underneath the weight. "What do you think?" Arthur asked shyly.

She shook her head in wonder. "I think...I think you're very mad."

"Will you come with me?"

"Where to?"

"Just to the meadows behind the castle. I want to show you something else."

Arthur clicked to the donkey and it followed them in a slow walk. Despite herself, Morgana was impressed. "How did you get him to learn that?" she asked as they ambled past the castle.

"I clicked and whenever I did it, I held out carrots. He associates it with me and food now."

"Goodness, that's...clever."

"Glad you think so," he said nonchalantly but she caught the smile.

He helped her over the fence and then clicked for the donkey to amble in at the opening. They walked across the meadow until Morgana could see outlined against the hedges, something colourful and a candle glowing in the dusk.

"What is –?" she began but Arthur hushed her.

"Wait until we get there."

They got there after what felt like decades and Morgana was stunned for the second time that night. A red and white striped blanket was laid out on the matted grass and there was a feast there. Bread, strawberries, pieces of chicken, bunches of sweet purple grapes and goblets of a sparkling liquid. Arthur gestured for her to sit down and when she did, he pulled the flowers one by one from the donkey. Morgana watched in silence until he had finished and placed them gently in front of her. Arthur sat down and picked up the first flower.

"Acacia," he said casually. "For our friendship. Alyssum, because you are worth more than beauty. Pink carnations because I won't ever forget you, dahlias because you are always dignified and elegant, honeysuckle for your generosity and a purple hyacinth because I desperate want you to forgive me. A white lily because you are the purest thing in this kingdom and the sweetest, all the coloured roses I could find because you mean everything to me and a thousand others that have a thousand different meanings and I can't possibly go through them all in one night, but this one," he swallowed. "This one means the most," he picked up a yellow tulip and pressed it into Morgana's hands. "Because there is sunshine in your smile and I don't know how I could have missed it for so long. But I can see it now Morgana and I promise I'll carry on seeing it for the rest of my life."

Morgana's lungs filled with air and yet she could not breathe. Arthur watched her warily. But he waited. He had said all he could. It was up to her now. So she leaned forward and kissed him gently on the mouth. He stayed still for a millisecond and she started to withdraw, scared he was repulsed. But he caught her hand and began to kiss her back. Arthur smiled against her lips tenderly. "I knew you'd have to forgive me," he murmured.

Morgana grinned. "Yes. It seems I don't have much of a choice when it comes to you. Still," she eyed the yellow tulip beside her. "There is sunshine in your smile too."

**THE END**

**Thank you for reviewing and reading; hope you enjoyed! :)**


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